The Rebirth of Greystone

The surviving letters from this period are thinner than before. For whatever reason, the residents of Greystone no longer felt the need to document their own existence.

Letter from Nimrod Jobson to Oswald Rankin, dated April 2, 1880
“Dearest Oswald,
You should come with us to the Calhoun place. We know you’ve been saying it’s all nonsense, but we went last fall and we are telling you it is the real deal. Franklyn is there, and alive. We saw him with our own eyes. You can too. He can take your hand, and every bad thing you’ve ever carried will leave you.
Camp is better now. We’re better now. Work is easier. Come see for yourself. They keep the door open.
Yours,
Nimrod Jobson”

Photograph of Nimrod Jobson, dated Sept. 3, 1877

Telegram from Matthew Perkins to Perkins Prospects company office in Reno, dated May 15, 1880
“The situation in Greystone is untenable. Production is up, but we are having incidents on the daily. Mutilations, apparent deaths, but they continue to come back to work each day with a smile on their faces. Rothstein just stopped showing up for his shifts.
In fact, three men who visited the Calhouns last month have not been seen since. Their bunks remain empty and their beds made. The Calhoun property is covered in tall grass. I do not like it.
I am requesting additional oversight before this sickness spreads further.
M. Perkins”

Note from Oswald Rankin to Matthew Perkins, undated but estimated mid-to-late June, 1880
“Perkins,
I went. Against my better judgement, I went.
They had me sit at the table. The thing they called Franklyn was there, bigger than any child I had ever seen, though it moved like one, and by God, it looked like one. But it was no tyke, it couldn’t have been. It reached for my hand the same way the little one did when he was small. I almost believed it.
But I reeled back, at his touch. Something about it, the light. I hadn’t seen light like that since before the accident. Nimrod wouldn’t stop smiling. Neither would Sally. None of them would stop smiling at me. 
I don’t know how much longer I can stay here. Something is moving under the ground. I can feel it when I walk. 
If you don’t hear from me again, don’t come looking.
Oz”

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